


The Cure for what ails you

by adeegeeak



Category: Final Fantasy XV, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Angst, Bad Decisions, It Gets Worse, M/M, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sentinel/Guide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-05 22:43:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12198882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adeegeeak/pseuds/adeegeeak
Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems.  Sometimes people lie for good reasons.  And well, sometimes it comes back to bite you in the ass.





	1. The start

The sobbing finally stopped. 

The haven was almost eerily quiet after that. Noctis looked over at Ignis, feeling sick to his stomach. Was this what would have happened to Ignis? Drugged, never able to feel or reach for another for comfort until someone decided to use him; it made his blood boil in that way only Ignis seemed to inspire. 

They’d all thought that Prompt.o, cheerful, smiling Prompto, was just a norm. No special senses or abilities, just a boy with a heart of gold, and a smile bright enough to chase away even Noctis’s sulks. No one had any clue that behind that smile the secret Promptio had held in. 

Guide.

And not just any Guide, but one strong enough to actually affect both Noctis and Gladio. Guides like that just didn’t come along every day. He snuck a look at Ignis, fussing over the dinner he was putting together. Ignis, who’d been found, trained and raised for the sole purpose of being presented to high ranking Sentinels. It was just luck that Noctis had in a fit of childish anger at all the younger guides being presented to him run off into the older children’s section of the dorm, where he’d stumbled across Ignis’s scent. It was unusual all the adults had muttered, but no one could deny how fiercely Ignis had stood up for Noctis, nor how tightly Noctis had clung to Ignis. 

And no one, not even the council, had been able to deny Noctis’s choice in guide when fifteen years later, Noctis had finally had enough of the ever present threat of Ignis being taken away. He winced remembering how Ignis had looked that night as he quietly finished cleaning, and then stood to leave. He hadn’t known then that the council had ordered Ignis to either formalize the bond or have it broken, and rather than force Noctis to do something he’d shown no interest in, he’d almost allowed them to take him away from Noctis. 

The bitter, almost worn scent Ignis had worn that night was almost a match for what Prompto smelled like as Gladio wrestled him into the tent, both of them fighting and swearing. 

Grief, Luna had called it in one of her letters. It was the scent of grief and loss. Noctis shook his head hard. Guides needed Sentinels and Sentinels needed Guides. Prompto had been obviously self-medicating - Noctis had quickly ferreted out the pills once he knew what to look for hidden away in the camera case- and the medication had failed. 

How would Prompto handle this? He’d gone from being suppressed, to blowing wide open in mid fight. Noctis wasn’t sure how they’d managed to end the fight, everything was a haze of emotion and feeling lost to a feral need to protect his pack. Gladio was the only unbonded Sentinel in miles, they’d rationalized, and something had to be done to stabilize Prompto. Gladio had liked him before, sometimes even saying on long nights when the sun hadn’t come up but the moon was gone, that if only Promptio wasn’t a normal…But everyone knew that as Noctis’s Beta, and the future King’s Shield, he’d have to bond to a guide, preferably female, and if not, then marry someone to carry his and his guide’s children. There wasn’t room for a normal male lover. 

Prompto was a guide. If he hadn’t been there for when Prom’s medications had failed, he’d’ve laughed it off as a joke. No one was laughing now. Not with the way Prom had fought them, wild and desperately, silent and in tears. Noctis had never thought he’d have to order a bonding (he knew his father had ordered two in his life and regretted both to this day), but with Prom throwing emotion and scent around like a stabbed baby chocobo, something had to be done. Demons would swarm, if not demons then an out of control guide would attract the Empire’s hunters.

Prompto had been sobbing in fear. He’d heard the quiet sobs, and how Gladio had tried to calm him down from the hysteria before swearing and finally just biting to jump start the bond. The tears hadn’t stopped the entire time. Still hadn’t if he was completely honest with himself.

Ignis glanced over, no doubt feeling him, lifting an eyebrow at him. He shook his head silently. No, he didn’t want to let Ignis sooth him quite yet. His best friend, and he’d ordered his shield to forcibly bond him. 

**  
Gladio looked down at his hands. Outside there was the snap of a fire crackle and the metallic thunk of dinner being prepared. No one was speaking, but there wasn’t much to speak of right now. 

He blew out a deep breath and stared at his hands. Rough, scars over the knuckles. A Shield’s hand, a seconds hands. Hands meant to protect and cherish. His hands looked like his father’s hands, and he’d never known anything but protection and cherishment from those hands, even during the worst of his training. 

His father’s hands had been used to free guides, and protect citizens. He’d used his hands to hold Prompto down, even as he’d thrashed and cried for Gladio to just let him go. He’d felt the jolt and the start of a bond bloom in his mind, as his teeth held onto Prom’s shoulder and he tasted blood. The sheer terror had almost been overwhelming and he’d felt a feral state threaten to take over as he tried to keep Prompto in place long enough for the bond to set. The only saving grace, and he used the term lightly, was that he hadn’t actually tried physically rape the smaller guide.

(His guide was trying to flee, was scared, he had to do something, anything to keep his guide there with him. The danger was where his guide was trying to run to.)

There was bruises over Prompto’s skin now that matched his hands. The red was quickly yielding to the blue and green of a bad bruises, and that was just where his hands had gripped and held the boy. Something crawled up his throat. There was some dried blood on the blond’s shoulder. If he’d found Prompto, anyone, like this, he’d’ve thought that..

Well he would have, Gladio thought grimly. He would have, but now he wasn’t sure. Guides were flighty, sure, and needed firm, careful handling to make sure they weren’t hurting themselves, but there wasn’t an excuse for what he’d done to Prompto. He reached out, one dark hand hovering over the scabbed over bite mark. 

Prom hadn’t had a chance against Gladio. He had been outweighed, out muscled, out everything, and in the midst of an blow out that had affected everyone. Thinking Prompto would be able to fight off anyone, let alone Gladio, who had been trained from birth to be Noctis’s shield, was like thinking a soaking wet kitten could take on fully grown Behemoth. Logically he knew that Noctis had had no choice in ordering him to “Do what needs to be done”, as they struggled to keep the blond from fleeing. Demons would have been on Prom before he would have been able to go anywhere, and an unbonded guide in the wilds?

It had been for the best, he told himself. Prompto was obviously a strong guide, he could feel the soft thum of the bond in the back of his mind, even with Promp unconscious and exhausted. Gladio had never wanted a guide before, not like he’d wanted Promp. Bile rose abruptly in his throat, hot and burning, as Prompt shivered in his sleep and flinched away from the heat of his hand as he tended to the bloody bite on his neck.

He’d wanted Prompto even when they’d all thought he was just a normal human, no special senses. The blond had been a bright, cheerful spot in a sea of practical guards and glaives. Prompto had always made everyone around him smile, and he listened to Gladio wax lyrical about the dumbest of things. Heck, he’d even helped Iris when she had begun to have trouble with people making snide remarks about being a Latent guide was so useless for the Amicitia family. Gladio had wanted to crawl up into Prompto’s space and do all sorts of things to the blond for so long, and now?

He’d gotten everything he’d wanted in on a fucking platter served up with a side of illegal medication withdrawal and knowing he’d used his hands to do the one thing he’d sworn to never do. 

And what kind of Sentinel did that make him?


	2. Ignis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis's story.

It’s easier to keep busy. Ignis learned that a young age as the rest of his classmates in the Guide dorms were sorted and passed out to Sentinels eager for bonds. He grew up moving from one dorm to the next, passing from the Child’s Dorms, where he’d stood out not only for being tall (strike one), but for being an Alpha Guide (strike two, three and four). Alpha guides were wrong, too strong, too stubborn, too powerful he was told from an early age. He needed to learn to control himself because there’d be no Sentinel for him. From the first day he entered the Guide Dorms in Insomnia, he’d been told his future.

He was to be sent off at a later date to one of the rescue facilities, where he’d be one of the faceless, nameless guides, pulling Sentinels out of distress and serving as temporary grounding for those without. He’d never be allowed to bond, and would in all likelihood die young, mind torn to shreds by the effects of breaking so many attempted bonds from older Sentinels desperate for a stabilizing bond. It was the best position an Alpha guide could hope for, the dorm matron told him kindly. It was the best use for him. Alpha guides were rare, and Ignis could help more than one Sentinel this way. He’d be honored by the community for his honorable sacrifice.

Be silent, keep busy and be respectful of your position, was the words ground into him by his dorm mates. They would go onto Bond - they were worthy, he was not. A bond is not what was intended for you is what the nobility sneered at him every time they saw him. 

Ignis stared at the small counter and grill in front of him. He could feel Noctis’s rolling emotions churning through their bond. Despite the prince’s best efforts, Ignis had never had any problem picking out Noctis’s distresses. Their bond was tight, unique and no one, not even the King, had been able to put a dent into it. Noctis wouldn’t take any comfort from him, not even to bury his face in Ignis’s neck to try to drown out the sounds and smells coming from the tent. 

It was self-punishment, he thought. Self-punishment for not realizing that the medication that Prompto cheerfully took every mealtime wasn’t for his anxiety, but rather a suppressant designed to keep the blond in a mental haze of nothing. In many respects it was terrifying to think how far Prompto had gotten in life, saddled with a drug that to the best of Ignis’s knowledge turned people into walking zombies.

He reached out blindly for something to start cooking. As long as he kept busy he could keep from thinking of how Prompto had looked, how the fear had sliced into Ignis’s head, throwing him off balance and nearly choking him. And in the end, the mental anguish when Prompto was so far gone as to not even know where he was or what was going on, the order from his Prince.

“Do it,” Noctis had ordered, blood dripping from a cut on his lip. “We can’t go on like this, and he can’t either.” Prompto had begun thrashing so hard for his freedom, Ignis had feared he’d hurt himself.

“Please, no, nononoo.” Thin, high pitched and defeated. Ignis had heard that tone before as an older girl in his dorm, not quite as powerful as Ignis, but still one of the more powerful guides, was lead off to the hospitals. He’d gone looking for her after Noctis had claimed him later, only to find the girl had overdosed on her medications three weeks after arriving as respite care for the Sentinel’s ward. Her death had been quietly called an unfortunate accident, and no one had said anything of how broken she’d been when the dorm guards had pulled her out. 

Gladio’s emotions weren’t much better either, over there in the tent. The older Sentinel had all but adopted Prompto into his life, as far as he could. It had reached the point that Ignis knew Gladio’s father had quietly had to intervene to keep the Dorms out of the situation. Everyone with a pair of eyes and a nose to smell could tell how much Gladio wanted the younger man, but everyone knew that the older sentinel would never let it go that far. He was the Prince’s shield, future Second, and he’d never be allowed to touch the blond in anyway other than as a friend. Prompto had fit in well with their group, almost too well at the time. 

Now that Ignis knew he was a guide it made sense. Even suppressed, chances were good Gladio had been grounding his senses on the blonde,and Prompto, his mental health on Gladio. No wonder the Dorms had never been able to pair the Shield with a guide. 

This wasn’t the bonding that either one had deserved. Even Ignis, half a step from being escorted to the respite hospital had had a gentler, kinder bonding. Noctis had been too young the first time for anything more than an easy, platonic bond that had grown with them. And even later, with the Council’s threat over their heads, with Noctis going feral in their shared apartment, even then, the bonding had been kind. Not gentle, no, but kind. 

Bonding wasn’t gentle. It was forcibly making room in your mind for another person, tying yourself to them forever. It could be kind, but gentle it was not. Ignis remembered having to calm Noctis down from the hysteria after his feral haze had ended. 

Prompto would likely sleep for two or three days, Ignis figured, calculating the how to stretch their food supply. They’d planned to stop by a small town on their way to the coast, but….He had slept for almost two after the night Noctis had finally claimed him, and his had been less traumatic than..this. 

“It’s not going to be allright, is it,” Noctis’s voice finally broke the night air. “I just..I just ordered Gladio to, how can we…”

Ignis looked over at the prince. “It had to be done, your highness.” Anything else, he said silently to himself, would have ended with Prompto in a respite hospital, and that was a fate he’d do anything including giving Prom one of his own daggers to prevent.

 

“You have failed in the basic duties as assigned to you. Report to the Office of Affairs in the morning to be reassigned,” the councilor sneered at the blank faced guide in front of him. Why anyone had allowed such a defective guide to even be present when the Prince had been at the Guide Dormitory to select a guide, was beyond him. Far too tall, physically defective and distinctly lacking in any more acceptable guide traits, the Prince’s choice of guide was an error, and one it was past time to correct. Luckily the Dorms were to be bringing a new crop of well trained, well born and very much traditional guides for the Prince tomorrow to choose from. He tapped his fingers across his desk impatiently. “Well?”

“As it pleases my lord,” the expressionless guide said. “If I may be excused to finish attending to the prince?”

This is why he hated these guides, especially these so-called Alpha guides. Too creepy by far and they all reminded him of either empty air headed children or living dolls. This one though, this, he thumbed through the papers in front of him, this Ignis Scientia, was the worst of them all. Always attending meetings for the prince allowing him to get out of his duties, and never speaking. Always walking the halls without an escort at the least! He wasn’t even properly claimed. No collar or bond mark anywhere to be seen. At least within this office, the guide would have to show some respect to him. Current guide to the prince or not, he was still a commoner and would have to be allowed to leave the presence of his betters. 

Petty yes, but one had to take the simple pleasures in life where one could. “Get out of my sight,” he finally ordered, making sure that the guide could see him dumping the papers requesting permission for Ignis to attend Crownsguard training in the trash where they belonged. No guide, especially one destined for the Respite centers, would be allowed to go through Crownsguard training on his watch. 

Going home was a blur for Ignis. Report to the Office of Affairs. He was twenty, his Sentinel eighteen, and their bond would not hold up to the harsh examination of the officials. He’d known for years that he was an unwelcome element to Noctis’s life in the eyes of most of the nobility. He just hadn’t allowed himself to think of how badly they hated him. In the morning he’d report as ordered, his bond, that bright shining string of stars tying him to his prince, shattered and then..

Bile rose in his throat. 

 

Ignis glanced around the apartment. Clean, well lit, and without a trace of Ignis to be found. Not that had ever been very much he thought bitterly to himself. From the first day Noctis had demanded his own space claiming he needed freedom from the Citadel, Ignis had been laboring under the orders to keep his presence to a minimum near the prince. It had taken him less than an hour to clear his few clothes out and stack his books into a small box. There was enough food in the freezer to last a few weeks, until his replacement got their feet under them, and most of his clothes and other belongings were already binned or marked for recycle. There was nothing to threaten a new guide. 

Vague curiosity wound it’s way down the bond, preceding the prince. “You’re not staying the night?” Noctis asked, attention already on his phone. Ignis stared at the prince, just out of the shower, with water dripping down his neck and very carefully made sure to project bland calmness. “I thought tonight was cooking lesson night.”

“Apologies your highness, but I still have to make the donation center tonight before they close.” Noctis glanced up at that, attention slowly coming to focus on Ignis and the boxes sitting next to the door. “I have several items to drop off.”

A frown creased his face. “Why tonight? Why not tomorrow?”

So he hadn’t been told. Silently Ignis cursed the council. He’d have to break the news of the impending bond breaking to the prince then. Of course the council would want him to do their dirty work for them. “I am to report to the Office of Affairs first thing in the morning.”

A snort came from the general direction of the couch where the prince had flopped down. He raised one to rest on the back of it. “Seriously? That’ll take an hour tops, they never take long to give you your yearly credentials.” Their bond was almost silent. For all that Ignis had always fancied it a bond of full of stars, it had been as cold as the space between stars. No wonder why the council was demanding a bond break. 

“I..I am not being re-credentialed,” Ignis said softly. “I am to be re-assigned from my understanding.”

The dark mop of hair suddenly popped up, sharp eyes focused on Ignis in a way they hadn’t been for some time. “What did you say?” There was implied threat there in his voice, dangerously calm. Noctis’s phone clattered to the floor as he stood up, suddenly focused on Ignis. He hadn’t bothered to look at Ignis like that in months. His heart ached for the days when Noctis was always pushing for more of Ignis, and the summer warmth of their childhood.

Ignis forced himself to speak lightly. “I have been determined to be a hinderance to your highness, and that you require a better - someone else as your guide. The Office of Affairs is to assess where I might be of use.” Ignis already knew where - it had been held over his head since he was five. The Sentinel Rehab hospital where if he was lucky he might live another few years in a haze of agony before dying. Ignis could feel a tight noise trying to crawl out of his throat. Guides didn’t last long at the Rehab centers. The normals who ran the Dorms and Rehab centers always claimed it was an honor, and a privilege to work there, but..Guides knew. It was hard to hide the truth from an empath. 

He blinked. Noctis was standing in front of him, hands clenched at his side, anger pouring out of him. 

“Who said that,” his prince demanded. “You’re my guide, and I picked you.”

“The council has determined that I am holding you back, and you should be free to pick someone better.” Was that his voice, he wondered? He sounded distant and calm, just like a guide should. Funny it took this happening for him to be the guide everyone wanted him to be. “They’ve graciously given me tonight to clean out the space needed.”

Noctis grabbed him, hands holding onto his shirt. “They said what,” the prince hissed out, eyes narrow and angry. Ignis could feel the prince start to lean on his shields. “They can’t do that! You’re mine.”

Be calm, Ignis repeated to himself, be calm, and know your place, and right now it was to prepare Noctis for a proper bonding with a proper guide chosen by the council. He straightened himself, a hand running down his side to smooth out the fabric as he turned towards the door. “It has been some time and the council has determined that you have been ill-served by myself. A replacement guide..”

He didn’t get a chance to finish before Noctis was on him. He stumbled back as Noctis’s weight hit him, dragging him down to the floor barely missing the table. A hand was behind his head, cradling his head from hitting the floor and another was grabbing at his shirt tearing it away. 

“Mine!” Noctis was snarling above him, and he reached for his prince, projecting calm, and peace at him. Where was the belligerent prince who refused to look at the reports and even tonight had given him the cold shoulder, he thought numbly. 

“Your highness, please,” he struggled underneath his Sentinel’s weight. He couldn’t let Noctis do this. They’d still take him in the morning, and Astrals, they’d have to break him to break the bond - “You can’t do this.” 

Noctis licked its way across his skin to his neck and forced both hands to away from his shoulders to pin them above his head.. For a brief, moment he thought he’d gotten through to Noctis, as the younger man paused above him, as they stared at each other. Maybe he’d broken the feral haze around his prince (yet another strike against him was this never going to end he was useless they were right), and then Noctis snarled something above him and bit down as hard as he could.

The stars in their bond exploded outwards, taking Ignis with them. 

Ignis gasped, coming back to reality suddenly. His sentinel, was above him, skin to skin, mouth dragging up the back of his neck. “C’mon Specs, c’mon.” His Sentinel was chanting above him, even as their bodies wrapped around each other. Eyes wide, he gasped in a breath, as he felt Noctis hit his shields again, demanding to be let in. “Specs, c’mon let me, let them down.”

A hand tangled with his, hold him down as another calloused hand traced his arm down to where his was tangled in the sheets, gently stroking. “Let me in Specs.” He shook his head. When had this happened, why were they in Noctis’s room, how had they even gotten there? “Specs!” His sentinel’s voice changed from demanding to almost pleading. “Let me in.”

The angle was awkward, but Ignis managed to force himself to look over his shoulder at his sentinel. Eyes, dark, and half naked behind him, the sentinel still had a bit of blood on his mouth, distant ache of his shoulder informing him just how that had happened. He leaned down and gently rubbed his cheek on Ignis’s shoulder. “You’re mine Specs, let me in, please.”

His heart hurt. His head hurt. He could still feel the Sentinel mentally probing at his shields, trying to get in, to broaden their fragile connection, and he shook. He had to stay strong, he wasn’t good enough, his prince deserved better. A whine forced itself out of his throat, “I can’t!”

“Yes you can,” the sentinel soothed. He was so warm above him. It had been so long since Ignis had felt any warmth from his Sentinel. “Just let me in. I’ll handle it from here.”

He’d never cried before, but he felt himself sobbing as he felt his shields start to crumble beneath the sentinel’s onslaught; a part of him terrified he was going to wake up in a Respite center, it was all going to have been a fever dream, and then he was there.

Noctis.

Forcing his way in, finding all the little flaws and imperfections Ignis had used to keep him at bay and soothing them. Distantly he could feel liquid burning down his cheeks, and his desperate gasps for air, but all that was real was Noctis, crawling into him as deep as he could go, and promising Ignis everything, hands and lips pressing to every bit of skin he could, worshiping and treasuring his guide. He could feel how sorry Noctis was, how in his mind Ignis was some kind of holy relic, to be treasured and worshiped. How unworthy he’d felt of the mythical creature who kept him sane, fed him, loved him. And how guilty Noctis felt that Ignis had never, and would never, have a chance to do anything but be his (but also so possessive over him).

“My guide,” the crown prince mumbled into Ignis’s chest. “Mine.”

Ignis stared at the ceiling, feeling whole for the first time, as the stars in their bond glowed with warmth. “Yours,” he said quietly, “my sentinel.” He felt his sentinel smile and satisfaction bubble up between them.


	3. Prompto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-Con warning here. It's not graphic but I do expect you to keep that in mind.

Growing up as a Nif orphan was bad enough. Nifs weren’t popular, especially where Prompto grew up and his absentee parents meant there wasn’t anyone really around to protect him from the bullies in his neighborhood who were just itching to show anyone who even might be distantly related to a Nif what they thought of them.

But growing up as a guide, who was also a Nif orphan? 

Prompto knew what people thought of guides, and knew that the pills his foster mother kept shoving at him was fifty percent to keep him safe and fifty percent keeping his foster parents safe from the authorities from realizing they were hiding a guide in their home. Maybe 30/70 on a bad day. The law was clear - guides had to be tested and depending on how strong they were and how powerful their families were - they were tagged and had to spend time at the Guide Dorms where they were trained on how to be the perfect guide for their sentinels. 

It hadn’t occurred to him until he’d been ten how precarious a situation he lived in. One of his classmates, a chubby cheerful girl who sat two seats down from him. They both loved to read, and had bonded over a series about flying dragons, and the people who rode them. Prompto remembered being so excited when news had come it was going to be made into a game, that he’d rushed to school to tell her. He’d been vibrating in his seat all day waiting. She never showed up. An official from the Guide Dorms had come after lunch to tell them that hiding guides was illegal, and the drugs made them very sick. No one had said anything, but the way he’d looked over the class and focused on her empty seat before staring at everyone had made it obvious.

So he’d forced himself to stop existing in a haze, eating and sleeping his time away when he realized it was a hallmark of a guide taking illegal suppressants. He’d forced himself to become active and eventually it’d worked as he lost the softness of a guide, and gotten lean. Getting cut off from Insomnia had made him panic. His supply dwindled and he started to try to stretch the pills out, cutting them in half, then half again. It’d have to work until he got some place like a big city, someplace that would have a one of the specialty clinics he went to - the ones with the courel paw print on the outside steps - then he’d be okay. They’d refill his meds without a word for him.

He’d just have to make it work. 

Feeling the Naga screaming at them (him), was more than Prompt could take. He knew his shields were starting to fail; Gladio had commented only the day before that Ignis and Noctis needed some time alone because he was starting to get feedback from someone. (Noctis had been less than thrilled at that, and the two of them had been temporarily exiled as the Prince loudly renewed his claim on Ignis. Prompto hadn’t been able to look Ignis in the face since.). The four of them were supposed to be back in the city by the next day Prompto had reminded himself as Gladio flopped in his lap, blatantly using him as a human pillow and means of muffling the moans in the tent. Just make it another day, and try not to let his stupid crush on that dumb Sentinel who had no idea of what personal space was get to him.

The shrieking was bad enough, but the mental pulse of fury-hate-pain was driving spikes into  
Prompto’s head. He swallowed hard trying to keep the urge to curl in a ball and hurl his lunch under control. The ground tilted beneath him as he struggled to keep his eyes on the Naga and line up a shot. 

"What the hell are you doing," bellowed Gladio. Prompto jerked back seeing a claw coming down towards him. A blade flew by and the snap-ice flavor of Noctis's warping hit the back of his throat. Ignis shouted something, and then suddenly he felt... everything.

It was like his skull split open and he was laid bare before the Astrals themselves. Ignis was a cool breath of green in his mind, full of concern, and love, Astrals it was almost blinding how much Ignis loved Noctis. Noctis was yelling in his ear, trying to hold him down even as his muscles spasmed against the ground and Prompto could almost cry at how his best friend in the world felt for his Guide, and his friends. How did he even function, he wondered crazily. How could anyone function with that much love, and doubt and fear and life in them? 

But Gladio. Gladio stood apart from all of them, obviously unbonded and turning towards him, Naga nearly cut in half, shoulders heaving, the tall man moved towards him in slow motion. Warmth, protection and deep depth was what Prompto read from the shield, deeper than he’d ever thought possible, but in no way threatening to him. He blinked and life sped back up. Confusion hit Prompto first, blurring his eyes, before the shock-want-how followed. But oh, he realized, they know. They know. 

"Get off," he yelled, scrabbling to get up and away. 

"Wait, what, no," snapped Noctis, "What's wrong with you." Noctis's hands were hot to the touch, and felt like every second they were more like shackles. "You're hurt and, fuck, you're a Guide, what the hell, Prom." He sounded hurt, and angry - and angry was never good. You never made a Sentinel angry.

Prompto tried to surge up again, against Noctis, who cursed at his struggles. "Let me go!"

"Ignis," Noctis snapped at the other man who was looking slightly poleaxed.

"He has no shields," Ignis hissed, one hand pressing to the side of his head, as if he’d been hurt. "He's leaking everywhere. We need to get him to safety now."

Safety...The only thing a trained Guide could view as safety that wasn’t his Sentinel was...A keen forced its way out of his throat and dimly he was aware of a snarl above him as he doubled his efforts to get free. "Stop fighting me!" Stop, oh hell no, there was no stop on this, Prompto wanted to yell. He was not going to be taken away, not him, no, no nononono. Noctis's weight lifted briefly and he tried to get up, only to have Ignis, cool, soothing Ignis, wrapping his mental shields around him briefly as a body hit the ground not too far from him amid the sounds of fighting. He could almost cry at the relief of not having everyone’s emotions and feelings battering at him.

"I need you to calm down now." Ignis's voice was quiet and dangerous in his ear. "Your distress is pushing Gladio and his highness into a feral haze, and you have to calm down. Now." Everyone knew that once a Sentinel went feral, they didn't stop until something stopped them. And that the that something was usually a Guide - a Respite Guide. And Prompto had no intention of becoming a chew toy, even for Gladio or Noctis. He had to get away. He wasn’t going to be used up like that.

He gasped in enough air to pull himself together long enough to lash out at Ignis, "Fuck you!" He could feel Ignis's surprise as the mental pushback forced him back long enough for Prompto to stagger to his feet and take a shaky step towards where the Regalia had been left. If he could make it there, he could get his meds, and then - Noctis tackled him a moment later, and Gladio was only a heartbeat afterwards in piling on top of him.

"Goddamn it Prompto, we're not going to hurt you!" Gladio's voice sounded strained and the anger-want-hurt was pulsing under every inch of skin. It itched like crazy and Prompto just wanted them to all go away. He wasn’t getting free - not with two Sentinels who’d already been pushed to a brink holding him down. The adrenaline rush started to fade as Noctis’s weight lifted from his back and the older Sentinel switched places with the prince. 

"Ignis - Ignis are you okay?"

Prompto spit out dirt from his mouth and glanced over. Noctis was kneeling next to a dazed looking Ignis. Gladio shifted slightly, gripping Prompto even more firmly. "How is he?"

The prince straightened up, one hand on his guide, and the other holding his sword, eyes going hard. "Bond him," he heard the order, and a breath sucked above him. Prompto sobbed into the ground as the prince’s anger grated at him. 

"Your highness.."

"Do it, Noctis snapped. “He’s going to bring the Nifs down on us at this rate." 

Prompto jerked as one hand lifted from where it was holding him down and he renewed his struggles to get free. How could Noctis, even if he’d, this wasn't, he didn't want this. The thought of being a Sentinel's toy, even Gladio, one of the most kind people he knew, was too much. Noctis’s voice was harsh - he’d never heard his best friend speak like this. “He’s out of control, and he’s going to bring the Empire down on top of us. He’s not listening and I won’t risk it.”

"Don't," he pleaded, "please!" Gladio paused above him. For a split second Prompto thought he might be able to get away as the big Sentinel paused above him. Then Gladio’s emotions hardened and washed over him as a Sleep spell hit him from the side. Ignis must be back on his feet. "I'm so sorry. Please,” Prompto slurred out, feeling Gladio lift him up in his arms, and then he knew nothing.

Waking up was not what he expected. Sort of. He'd expected to wake up in a cell, shivering and waiting for a stranger to come in to claim him. The rewards for turning an unbonded Guide in, was astronomical; everyone knew that. It’d gotten worse once Insomnia fell and the little protections it had given a guide was gone. Gil was tight, and..."Shh." One huge hand was tracing the line of his back. "Easy, Prom, just breath." Gladio’s voice was soothing, not quite on the level of a Sentinel commanding a response in his guide, but close enough that when combined with the residual Sleep still tugging at him, he couldn’t quite focus enough to pull back from trying to latch onto the bigger man. 

"Please, no, please," he rasped, head throbbing. Astrals, he hated Sleep spells. "You don't want to do this, please big guy." His words were getting faster and faster, he hated himself as the tears started. “Just let me go, no one’ll have to know. I’ll be good. You know I can be good.” 

"Prompto, please just breath for me babe, c'mon." Gladio shifted his weight and Prompto yelped as he realized they were both naked and oh please, no, he was naked in a what had to be the world’s most hastily made nest, and there was a naked Sentinel next to him, and. "Fuck, you can't calm down, what am I thinking." 

He ignored the despair and focused on the thread of anger. No, Prompto couldn't calm down and it was getting harder to breath, and fuck you very much. "Just, know I'm sorry." 

“Don’t,” Prompto forced himself to croak out. “Please.” 

“I’m sorry.” Big hands he'd always thought of as safe, hardened and held onto him even as he wriggled and yelled. A warm puff of air went over his neck and then teeth were digging into him. Lights exploded behind his eyes and suddenly, abruptly Gladio was there, making his way into him, a huge presence filling a hole he'd never noticed before. 

It hurt.


	4. Nesting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do need a Beta to a) keep me on track and b) keep this monster in check.

Nesting was something Prompto had known about officially at least, in passing, sort of how he’d known about how bonding happened in private. He’d seen the start Ignis nesting, though to be fair, Ignis nesting was like some sort of intense organized, glossy magazine-esque thing. Everything in Noctis’s apartment which always looked like it belonged in a high end decorating magazine would suddenly look even more impressive, then suddenly both Ignis and Noctis would vanish for a few days before reappearing looking pleased with themselves. 

He’d gotten used to being left to Gladio for company during these times. Gladio had often mocked the high end furniture pawned off onto Sentinels, all of them declaring how comfortable for the senses each piece was. How they could form the perfect nest for a bonding pair, and look how bland and boring it all was. Frankly it all seemed a little bizarre to Prompto who always nodded and agreed when Gladio brought up nesting. How could bland, boring, mass produced frankly crap, help anyone? 

He never admitted to anyone, especially Gladiolus Amicitia, the future’s King Shield, and Beta Prime to the future Alpha Prime, that tucked away in his tiny apartment was a nest. Prompto’s nest had been crafted in secret, and to his mind, was comfortable. Gladio and Noctis were fond of unsubtly trying to scent mark Prompto as part of their pack by giving him sweaters or t-shirts to ‘borrow’, all of which would wind up tucked into his nest. It had brightly colored blankets, and soft fabrics. Prompto had grown hanging plants along the walls, and there was small mirrors tucked away in the leaves to bounce the light off of. It never failed to calm him down, and he’d found he slept better once he’d made a nest. 

It was comfortable, decadent, and in no way would get approved for nesting. Not that Prompto had ever entertained the thought of having a Sentinel (Gladio), in his nest. Nesting was for proper Guides, who had proper Sentinels, who deserved proper bonds, and a questionably legal Niff refugee wasn’t one of them. 

Gladios's voice rumbled beneath him,“I know, I know.” 

Prompto felt the whine in his throat. This wasn’t his nest, it wasn’t safe, even if he could feel Gladio all around him, and Noctis lurking just outside with Ignis. The tent walls weren’t thick, or soft, and the ground was too hard. It was dark, and instead of time worn blankets, he had sleeping bags. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better,” Gladio’s hand stroked his hair, sounding frustrated and tired. “Next time, anything you want, ok?” He knew he should be upset over more than just the nest. But Gladio was calming to lay on, and he could feel the Sentinel protecting him. 

“How is he?” Ignis this time. Prompto tucked his head into his Sentinel (fuck he had a Sentinel, how - why hadn’t they just..why were they being nice, he’d lied to them, lied to everyone) to block out the concern the other guide was projecting. Somehow he thought they’d had this conversation before. Whatever. His head still throbbed and was still sore where Gladio lurked at the edge of his bond. Too bright, too intense. 

Gladio shrugged best he could. “He’s still not verbal. I don’t understand,” he said. “No one ever said that a guide would go nonverbal. They always said it would be me going nonverbal.” Outside the tent, Noctis’s tension twisted higher. 

Ignis sighed, “Everyone’s different. I am concerned. We can’t stay here,” he admitted. “Noctis has been catching fish, but supplies are running short, and he's had to chase off some curious hunters already.”

“Is it my fault,” Gladio asked suddenly. Ignis went alert. “Is it my fault that we’re here like this? I wanted him, and he’s always been there.”

“I do not think we can blame anyone for this. It is certainly not your fault. Nor, his. Though I do wish he’d trusted us more," Ignis said quietly. "He had his own reasons, and I can't discredit them."

Gladio grunted. Prompto could feel how much his Sentinel disagreed, but also how he wasn’t going to argue with Ignis over it. “When do we need to try to move from here,” the older man asked, very obviously trying to change the subject.

“Tomorrow.”

Prompto clenched his eyes tighter at the way Gladio immediately growled at the announcement. “We have no choice Gladio. Noctis can’t keep chasing other hunters off this Haven, and our supplies are too low. It has to be risked.”

“Going to try to get to Lestallum then?”

“The Leville does have a bonding suite for the two of you that may help calm your bond down.”

Prompto felt tears well up. He’s not only lied to them, but now they’re nearly out of supplies, and having to go the Leville because the bond between them was too raw and too harsh. If he’d been careful and not played it loose with his suppressants, then none of this would have happened. Gladio shifted slightly, tucking him in closer, and wrapping the sleeping bags in tighter around them. Lips pressed lightly against his head, and above him, his new Sentinel whisper for him to rest.


End file.
